Confessions of a Parinoid Soldier
by Maveriqua
Summary: A soldier named Pierre feels guilt for firing a shot that lead to a boy's death. Or so he believes... Rated for violence. (AU) I do not own Les Mis


**Okay, so, this is my first fanfic. Hope you like!**

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The war was over. The rebels had won. The monarchy was gone, a new democratic government in it's place. Oh, there were people who preferred the monarchy and wanted it back. However, although he used to be a soldier, Pierre Francois was not one of these people. His belief in the monarchy had led him to do absolutely unforgivable, in his eyes.

At the moment, he was sitting in the ABC cafe with his brother, Josse. Although they were twins, both twenty-three, they couldn't have been more different. Pierre had dark hair and was logical and able to think things through. Josse had light hair and was just plain crazy and a scaredy-cat.

"Pierre, why do you insist on coming here? There are too many ghosts!"

Case in point. Josse was one of those people in denial who simply refused to believe the monarchy was gone. As far as he was concerned, everyone at the barricade was dead, and any sign of them walking around was their ghosts. Which was bad, since he was afraid of ghosts.

"I like the the coffee here," said Pierre, taking a sip. He looked around again. He liked the atmosphere there too. The friendly waitresses, the chatter of customers, the ghost boy hanging out in the corner... wait, what? "Um...maybe we should go...," Pierre said nervously, paying for his drink.

Josse looked over to the corner and jumped out of his seat. "I told you there were ghosts here!" he yelped as he sped out of the cafe, everyone staring at him.

Pierre walked out behind him, mortified.

Pierre walked into the apartment next to his brother's and fell, facedown, on the bed. Every day, now, he saw that ghost. Because... at the barricade...

FLASHBACK TIME! :

He was laying on the ground, coughing from the smoke. He looked to the man beside him. "Don't give up hope," said the man, "the rebels will soon give up."

Pierre nodded and got back into position. He heard a cry of "Fire!" and started shooting. It was a furious fight. Suddenly, he saw a small figure climbing over the barricade, bending down to the dead soldiers outside the barricade, humming a song. The heck?, wondered Pierre.

"He's collecting the bullets!" yelped Josse. "Fire at will!"

"No, don't! I don't want to be shot!" yelled another man.

"Shut up, William!"

The figure started walking back towards the barricade. "He's getting away!" Will yelled.

A split second later, a gunshot was heard. The figure fell. Outraged shouts and cries came from the barricade. "Yes!," yelled Josse, "someone finally got the dirty-"

The smoke cleared. Where the figure had fallen, there was a boy, no older than thirteen.

"Oh," Will whispered.

"We probably shouldn't have done that" whispered Josse, "huh, Pierre?"

Pierre didn't answer. "Pierre?", asked Josse.

He turned around. Pierre wasn't behind him. "Pierre?"

All he saw was Pierre's gun, on the ground, smoking. "Pierre!"

Pierre couldn't hear him. He was running aimlessly, through the streets.

He was found three hours later, huddling inside one of the other destroyed barricades.

END FLASHBACK

Pierre rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He shook. He couldn't deal with it anymore. He had to stop this. And the only way to stop it was to confront the ghost. He stood up, shaking, and walked out of his apartment.

MEANWHILE:

At the ABC cafe, a young boy was curled up in the ceiling rafters, grinning. He loved hiding from the Amis, popping out and giving them a shock. He sometimes played with Grantire, seeing who could scare them the most, as he was right now. He shifted around a bit. If he remembered correctly, Combeferre should have been coming through the door in a minute. He heard the bell ring, a sign that someone was coming into the shop. He leapt down in front of the man and yelled "BOO!"

The man fainted. Grantaire popped out of the cabinet yelling "WAHAHHAHHAHHHA!," until he saw the man on the floor.

The man was wearing shin length pants, a navy jacket, and white gloves.

This was definitely not Combeferre.

Pierre woke up with someone splashing ice cold water on him. He sat up, coughing and spluttering. "You okay?" he heard a man ask.

Pierre looked up and saw a young man with short, curly hair. "I came in and found you on the floor."

"I'm fine, thanks," answered Pierre, "just got kind of a shock."

"Ah. Hey, did I see you here earlier? With the screaming guy?"

Pierre blushed, "Yes. That was my brother. He's crazy."

The man nodded, "Why was he screaming, anyway?"

Pierre sighed, "He's in denial. He thinks the revolution failed and that any of the Amis he sees are ghosts. And he's afraid of ghosts."

The man shook his head. "Have you tried telling him that everyone survived?"

Pierre nodded and said, "Yes, but-wait, did you say everyone?"

The man nodded. "There was a young friend of ours, Gavroche, who was shot, but he's okay now. Why?"

Pierre grinned."Just making sure I was right," he said as he walked out of the shop.

The man stared after him, hearing a loud "YAHOO!" after the door closed. A young boy came out from under the table and stood next to the man. "What was that about, Grantaire?

Grantaire shook his head, "I have no idea, Gav. Probably just another crazy guy."

**The End**

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**So... like it? Hate it? Please leave a review and all unnescesary flames will be used to blow up the barricade! (Enjolras: WHAT!) JK, JK. **


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